32. Serena
Serena
Done.
The last of the protestors had either lost interest or we paid off or were gone. No more shanty towns in front of the office, no more bad publicity. Everything at the office was going back to normal. What was more important was telling my parents my decision.
If Miles could do it, so could I.
I could tell them I was stepping down. Leaving King Developments.
My stomach flipped, but I forced a steady breath through my nose. I could do this. I would do this.
That’s when I felt it—a slight weight, a cautious movement—and I looked down just in time to see Doughboy, Miles’s smug, lazy furball of a cat, leap into my lap like it was his rightful throne.
I froze.
He…had never done that before. He might have lain next to me, placed his head, but fully laid in my lap?
My heart did a skip.
“You little demon,” I muttered, stunned.
Doughboy purred and curled himself into a ball, content as ever, and I held my breath looking down at him. Slowly I lowered my hand, threading it through his orange fur.
My lips twitched. I hated this cat. I had said I hated this cat. But right now, I couldn’t bring myself to move him.
I took a sip of my coffee, trying—and failing—not to smile.
“Don’t think this makes us cool,” I whispered, scratching behind his ears anyway.
Someone knocked on my front door. I sucked my teeth, leaning forward to place my coffee on the table, but when I tried to move Doughboy, the massive cat wouldn’t budge.
“Ugh,” I groaned, and taking a dare, I started to lift him off me, expecting claws or protest.
But to my amazement…he stayed.
His green eyes blinked up at me, and he made a low purring sound, like he approved.
“Well, this is new,” I muttered, rising to my feet with a Maine coon draped in my arms like some ridiculous accessory. “You’ve got maybe ten seconds before I remember I’m allergic to love.”
I crossed to the front door, hugging the cat close, and I peeked through the glass. And froze.
Daddy was standing there.
Straight-backed. Hands in his coat pockets.
My stomach dropped.
“Serena,” he said, his voice just clear enough to carry through the door.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
I didn’t open the door.
“Open the door.”
I dropped my head forward, and inhaled deeply, before maneuvering Doughboy enough to open the front door.
“I’m busy,” I said.
Daddy lifted a brow before walking in anyway. “It’s been a while since I’ve been over.”
I closed the door behind him, holding Doughboy tighter as if he could give some kinda of comfort.
“I see you like pets now.” Daddy pointed at the cat.
“I don’t. He just wouldn’t get off my lap.” I crossed the room quickly, going to sit on the couch. Placing Doughboy back into my lap, I petted him slowly, and I heard him begin to purr.
“So—”
“What do we need to talk about?” I said in a clipped voice. “I meant what I said, I’m busy.”
“I know you, Serena. We need to talk about what you saw.”
I looked away, and Daddy took a seat in the chair across from me. His face was drawn, and he even leaned forward, picked up my coffee cup, and took a sip.
He raised a brow. “Is this…Kopi Luwak?”
“Yes.” I didn’t even blink. “You can get your own cup in the kitchen.”
“This is fine with me,” he said.
I watched him finish my coffee before he set the cup down, and sighed.
“It wasn’t what you think.”
“Then what was it?”
This time, Daddy rubbed his face, scratching his beard, and his brown eyes met mine. “I wanted to talk to her about your mother. About maybe…helping. Maybe rekindling their friendship again.”
“Helping? You needed to talk to her three hours away for that?”
He let out a long breath. “Your mama’s been off lately. More than usual.”
“What do you mean off?” My stomach tightened.
“She’s having some health issues,” he said slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor like he was searching for the right way to lie gently. “She won’t admit it, but she’s tired, Serena. Bone-tired.”
I didn’t say anything.
“I don’t know how long she’s gonna last running all of this. It’s like…” He paused, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s like she’s trying to deny reality. We’re getting older, not younger, sweetie. Time is wearing all of us down.”
“She should see someone?—”
“She won’t. You know your mother. Pride before anything. But between the press, the protestors, losing Ben, everything with Laurene and Gigi…” His eyes met mine. “And you—she’s stretched thin.”
I swallowed, the weight of it hitting deeper than I wanted to admit.
“She’s not invincible, Serena. None of us are.”
My jaw tightened.
“So now it’s my fault?”
He shook his head. “Never. But when I look at you, I see more of your mama in you than I’d like.”
I ran a hand down Doughboy’s back, needing something to do with my hands. “That supposed to be a compliment?”
Daddy gave a small smile. “It’s supposed to mean I worry.
You inherited her ambition, her grit, but you also inherited that tendency to carry everything like the world would fall apart if you dropped even one thing.
I thought you would grow out of it when you were a kid…
You never did, you’ve always been high strung. ”
I stayed quiet, still petting the cat.
“But lately,” he added, “I’ve seen you smile more. You’ve been spending time with your sisters again. You’re not breathing and bleeding this business twenty-four seven like you used to. I thought we’d never see the day.”
I blinked, unsure what to say.
“I’m proud of you, Rena. I know it probably doesn’t sound like it coming from me, but I am.”
I frowned. “Now you’re proud of me? After almost thirty years, you’re proud? That’s all I ever wanted from you and Mama, but now I’m with Miles and you’re proud?”
“Don’t take it that way?—”
“The reality is, you and Mama were not good parents to me.”
Daddy went silent and you could hear a pin drop in the room.
“You sat back, passive, Daddy. Like your family didn’t have just as much money as Mama. You let her push us, you let her run Laurene away. You let her push Gigi away. You watched her burn me out, and you didn’t do a damn thing.”
He bowed his head. Quiet. Not arguing. Just listening.
“Only Erik got to be his own person. Was it because he’s a boy? Because he’s the firstborn?”
His eyes flicked up at that. But I wasn’t done.
“I’ve spent my whole life chasing your approval. Sacrificing my joy for a nod, a pat on the back. I never got to make a choice that was just mine. ” I swallowed. “But now I have. I chose Miles. I chose me. And for once, I don’t care if you or Mama approve.”
His face was unreadable. And I hated how much I still looked for the flicker of emotion in it.
“I’m tired,” I said at last. “And I’m done pretending that all this didn’t hurt.”
Daddy made a face but nodded. “I’m going to tell you, like I told your sister Laurene on her wedding day. You are right.”
I glared at him.
“We were not good parents to you.”
That hit me like a ton of bricks; the force of it left me breathless and stunned.
“We haven’t been good to all of you,” he said, voice lower now. “We watched you shape yourself around this family. Around your mother. Around what people expected. And we let you.”
He didn’t look at me when he said it. He stared off like he was ashamed. Like he couldn’t bear to see what it did to me.
“You learned to survive in two worlds—one for us, one for everyone else. You didn’t complain, and we took that as permission. We thought your silence meant you were okay with how things were.”
Then slowly, he rose from his chair. I stiffened as he stepped around the coffee table and knelt down beside me.
He reached for my hand first, then pulled me into a hug. Not the kind I was used to—stiff, short, impersonal. This one stayed. Doughboy meowed between us.
I didn’t hug him back at first. My hands were still curled in my lap.
“So I had to break for you to notice?” I asked, bitter and small.
His voice cracked. “I think you’ve been breaking for a long time. We just chose not to see it.”
That hit deep. Too deep.
“You’ve done enough,” he said into my hair. “You are enough, Serena. You always have been.”
I swallowed, emotion hitting me harder than I wanted. I didn’t like this feeling.
“I’m gonna go on a sabbatical, once we finish renovations. I…need to be away for a while.”
His hand stilled on my back.
For a moment, he didn’t say anything. I could feel the hesitation in him—the way his breath caught, the way his fingers gently curled into the fabric of my shirt like he didn’t want to let go just yet.
“A sabbatical,” he repeated.
Then he pulled back enough to look at me. His eyes were glassy.
“You deserve that. You do.”
He straightened his spine but didn’t stand, like part of him was bracing for something heavier. I tangled my fingers in Doughboy’s hair deeper.
“Just…prepare yourself.”
My brow furrowed.
“For what?”
He gave me that look I remembered from childhood—the one he gave before he handed out consequences he didn’t agree with, but stood by anyway.
“You know your mother,” he said gently. “She doesn’t take change lightly.”
He paused, then added, “But you need to tell her. Not me.”
“Why not you?” I asked.
He shook his head. “You need to step into your power. Finish what you’ve started.”
Finally, Daddy released me, standing up to his full height.
“I’ll let you get back to it,” he said, voice low. “But I meant what I said. I’m proud of you, Serena. I always have been. I just didn’t say it enough.”
He turned, heading toward the door. I stood frozen, Doughboy still curled in my lap like a warm weight. I shook my head, placed Doughboy on the couch, and shot up.
“Daddy—wait.”
He paused in the doorway.
I rushed toward him before I could second-guess myself and wrapped my arms around him. He stilled for a moment. Then his arms came around me, strong and sure. A real hug. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten.
“I love you, Rena,” he.
I swallowed hard. “I love you too.”
Releasing me, he took a step back, and started to leave but paused, and turned.